Of Dreams and Magic
by Ram Jas
Summary: When Kristin makes a wish, then reprimands herself, reminding herself that magic and fairies aren't real, she kills a fairy, sending an weeping Peter Pan to her. Can Peter restore her belief? not a MS, I promise!
1. Wish Upon a Star

**(A/N-Hello and welcome to Of Dreams and Magic! I just had some random inspiration, and starting writing. This is my first Peter Pan fic, so please be kind, and no flamers. Hope you enjoy it, and PLEASE R&R! Cookies and PB&pickle sandwiches to my pal and beta, DonJuanTriumphs!)**

Chapter One

I fell asleep watching Hook for the millionth time. I had just gotten my tonsils and adenoids out a couple months back, and had just regained my singing voice. I was singing "Second Star on the Right", when I was inspired to watch one of my favorite movies. That was when I had fallen asleep. I awoke with a start to see an odd shadow at the end of my bed. I jumped up, and grasped at it. My cat yowled, and jumped off the bed, running out of my room at full speed.

"How'd she get in here?" I thought aloud, shutting my door once again. I always slept with my door shut. I climbed back in bed and shut off the television. I was tired, but couldn't quite fall back asleep. I crawled to the end of my bed and opened the window and looked out. The sky was clear as crystal that night, the stars shining their brightest. I spotted the big dipper, and Orion, my favorite. I then saw the North Star, but for some odd reason, there was a large, bright star next to it, on the right.

"That's ironic," I said as I cocked my head to the side, just as a shooting star flew in the sky. I held my breath and sat up straight in awed shock at the beauty of the rare sight before me. It was a vivid yellow with shades of pink and orange running through the tail. It seemed to be coming straight toward my little town, before it disappeared. It reminded me of the movie. I closed my eyes.

"I wish I could go to Never-Neverland," I muttered. I knew it was a childish thing to do; I knew it wouldn't come true, but it just gave me hope.

My life wasn't going very smoothly or happily recently. My parents had recently split up, and my mother and I were dirt-poor, barely scraping along. We both had to work, and we'd only get 3-5 hours of sleep each night. I wasn't able to take frequent sick-days like I used to before the split-up. I couldn't miss any school. I had to get top grades this year, so I could get into a good college in two years, and make more money. I was in charge of a daycare after school, where I'd have a bunch of grade-school children some to my house after school, where we'd play, and I'd watch them until their parents came and got them. Often-times, I'd make up stories about Peter Pan. It was the only thing to keep them quiet and away from my room.

I had no social life or love life. In my town, I was an outcast. I was smart, got good grades, was some-what good looking, and confidant. Well, most of the time I was confidant. I'd had a few messed-up relationships before. I'd had 2 boyfriends before, and both were self-centered jerks. One of which had tried to rape me. Every day at school, I was shy to everyone, and kept to myself and my books. I was afraid of guys, yet I desperately yearned for the love and companionship of a man. Not a boy, but a man that was respectful, loving, and caring, that truly cared for me and my well-being. A man that would go through heaven and hell, and back again just for me.

I remembered watching fairy tales as a child, and wishing that I could be Jasmine and have a hottie adventurous man like Aladdin. Aladdin, the man that had a genie that would introduce magic and love in my life, to where I'd be happy. I wished that I could be Cinderella, and find that Prince Charming for me. I wished I could be Aurora, Sleeping Beauty, and have fairies to watch over me, and a man that loved me for me. He'd love me not for my possessions, or lack thereof, but for the me inside. But I knew that I'd never have that. Magic wasn't real, and most of all, fairies weren't real. I could wish all I wanted, but wishes never come true, no matter what. I bitterly sighed, and went to close the window again. The screen fell off, and clattered to the ground 3 stories below. I silently muttered some obscenities. I wouldn't be able to get it until tomorrow morning, when the owner would see it. I'd be sure to pay for the damage before Mom knew about it. I shut the window and lay back down. As I tried to sleep, I sweated profusely. It was too warm for the window to be closed in a small apartment without air conditioning. I opened the window once again and prayed that no insects would come in through my window and eat me alive. I went into the bathroom to get a drink and splash some cool water over my heated body. I crawled into bed, and glanced at the clock. I had 2 hours before I had to get up. I groaned, and closed my eyes, quickly falling into a deep sleep.


	2. Unsuspected Murder

**(A/N-Here's chapter two. Hope you all like it! Sorry about leaving it on a cliffie, but it's late and I have school tomorrow!)**

Chapter Two

I woke myself up muttering something in my sleep.

"We have to save the banana's elephant." I shot up when I heard muffled sobs from my floor. I silently grabbed my long, heavy flashlight from my bedside table, and grabbed the end, preparing to attack the intruder. I clicked on the light, and the crying stopped.

"Tinker Bell?" a boy's voice uttered into the slight darkness. I was looking into the face of a boy about 16 or 17. He had long, messy golden-blonde hair, and high cheekbones. His full, yet somehow masculine lips trembled, and from the tears making their way through a dirt-smudged face, I knew that the boy had been crying. I looked into his eyes, and was automatically entranced. They were a sparkling emerald green, but somehow lacked the flicker of light I knew should have been there.

"No, it's a flashlight. Why are you crying?" I tenderly asked the boy, turning on the bedside lamp. I gasped when I saw what he was crying about. There was a dead woman on my bed. She was naked, except a few clumps of algae covering the place between her thighs. She had short, spiked blonde hair, and a long, lean, tanned body with an odd blue tint to it. The thing is, she was not a normal woman. She was about 4 inches tall, and had a pair of beautiful, sheer, rainbow-colored wings. The woman was a fairy. I looked unbelievingly back at the boy, taking a good look at him. He was short, maybe 5'10" or so, with long, lean limbs that were well-muscled. He was tanned all over, and had a very muscled torso. He was only wearing a cluster of leaves below his waist, and he had an ivy belt, that held a dagger and a sword on the left hip. My eyes widened, and I shook my head. This couldn't possibly be real.

"What is that?" I asked, with a shaky breath, knowing full well who he was and what "it" was.

"Tha-that's Tink," was all he said, before going into the corner and weeping silently into his hands.

"Is-is she a…fairy?" I asked, needing to hear it from someone other than myself, to know it was truth.

"Yes. She was my fairy."

"But, that can't be possible!" I felt myself interjecting. "Fairies aren't r-"

"Don't say that! Don't EVER say that! Every time-" he started to say.

"Every time someone denies the existence of a fairy, a fairy falls down dead. I know. It's just that, they just can't be!" I said, taking a slow, deep breath before gingerly picking up the limp body of Tinker Bell. Her head fell to the side, and I inhaled sharply, remembering how I'd just denied their existence barely an hour ago. "Tinker Bell," I whispered, before emitting a deep sob. "It's all my fault! I denied them! I said they weren't real just a while ago. I killed Tink!" I said, holding Tink to my chest. As my tears flowed over her dead body, I felt a sharp blade placed against my throat.

"You! You're the one that killed Tink! You shall pay for the death of my best friend," he said. I held out Tinker Bell for Peter to take, and bared my neck for him to slice.

"I understand. At least this way I'll feel no more pain," I whispered.

"What pain are you talking about?" he asked, with the blade still against my throat.

"My family is split apart. I have no friends, and the love that I seek is no where to be found in this world," I said quietly. "The only friends I have are the little children that I care for." I smirked. "You know, it's funny. Everyday the kids ask me to tell them a story, and every time, I tell one of you. You're their favorite character. If I were to die, then there'd be no happiness for them," I said, beginning to think aloud. I somehow wanted to live then. "Plus," I added, "YOU are Peter Pan. It'd be unfair to just kill me, without giving me a fair chance to fight back," I said. I felt the pressure ease on my neck.

"True enough. Who are you? Tell me your name," he said, stepping back, and placing one hand on his hip, the other holding Tink. I stood up, and curtsied, feeling giddy once it finally hit me who I was talking to.

"I am Kristin Elise O'Reilly. I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Peter, though I'm sorry for the circumstances of our meeting." Peter cocked his head to one side, with an adorable, confused look on his face. "It's nice to meet you, though I'm sorry about why we are meeting, is what that means." I explained.

"I am still going to avenge Tink's death. Prepare to meet thy doom, Kristin Elise O'Reilly," he said, bowing, and unsheathing his sword after gently placing Tink on my pillow. I stood up.

"I don't have a sword, Peter. I am skilled in sword fighting, I promise you, but I have nothing in which to fight you with," I said, raising my hands in front of me. Suddenly, a thought struck me.

"I know how to save Tinker Bell!" I said, startling Peter into dropping his sword with a loud crash. I winced, and prayed that my mother wouldn't waken. I looked at the clock and suddenly heard footsteps in the hallway.

"Well then fix her! Please! I'll do anything!" Peter wailed, sheathing his sword. My mother's footsteps got closer.

"I can't fix her here. Not now, mother is almost here! Hide!" I said, placing my face into my hands.

"You must save Tink!" he said.

"Hide! Mother is her-" I said. A fist came crashing down onto my head, and all went black.


	3. Kidnapped

Chapter 3: Kidnapped

**(Hey everybody again! Thanks to Lilmizzrebel31 for the AWESOME reviews! This chapter goes out to you, chica! This is also dedicated to Cricket Spinner, one of my AMAZING betas, and a GREAT friend, from the DBCA. Note: the squares are in Cherokee alphabet, but the font won't work on here, so you guys got screwed over. XD Sorry!I got the translations from http / www . wehali . com / tsalagi / index . cfm) Oh, and CHECK OUT THE MOST AMAZING STORY EVERRR! IT'S CALLED "AN AUSTRALIAN PHAN IN PARIS**! READ IT! READ IT I SAY! MWAH HAH AH AH A! IT'S BY NIGHTSHADESISTER-01! SQUEEEEE!

I'm done now. Enjoy! )

I awoke with a sharp pain to the side of my head. I was in a completely dark room, and I could see none of my surroundings. I turned over, and ran my hands along the soft fur pelts that made up my bed. I basked in the feeling of the soft furs on my bare skin that were so very different to that of my sackcloth-like sheets of home.

"Home," I whispered into the darkness, realizing that that was not where I was currently located. I was suddenly afraid. I didn't know where I was, and I didn't know what kind of foe or fearful creature had brought me here. Then I remembered. I had been hallucinating about Peter Pan and a dead Tinker Bell earlier this morning. I must still be dreaming. I heard the door start to creak open, and I huddled down into the furs, hiding from my captor. I heard a language I was not familiar with as light flooded the room. I heard some soothing noises in the speech of the person.

".  ?" I heard. _(Bad pain. How?)_

All of a sudden, I somehow understood.

"She is not up yet. She must have hit her head very hard, Peter," said an old woman's voice.

"But she must awaken soon, Little Creek! She has to fix Tink!" said a boyish voice I knew well. I shook my head, thinking that this must not be real. It was then that I realized my foolish mistake.

"She's awake! You must fix Tink now!" Peter said, gripping my shoulders and shaking me fully awake. I opened my eyes and groaned in pain. I hooked my arms outward and upward, and brought them inward in a circle, breaking Peter's grip on my shoulders, remembering my self-defense classes.

"Quit shaking me. My head hurts," I moaned, as Peter flew up into the ceiling in shock and surprise at being disarmed by a girl. I looked at my surroundings and realized I must have had a bit too much caffeine the night before to be having such vivid dreams.

I was in a teepee of many stained hides of animals. There were other skins hung around on the walls and on the floor. There were symbols written all over the walls, along with hanging spears and bows and arrows. I was on a pallet in the corner, and in the middle of the room, there was a blazing fire, over which was a large pot of steaming water. I looked at the end of my pallet to find a fawn-colored dress of deer-skin, and breeches of the same color. They were beautifully beaded with glass beads of reds, blacks, and silver. There was a pair of matching moccasins to the side of it. The woman, Little Creek, saw my looking at it.

"It is for you to wear while here in Neverland. Your skins got into many pieces," she said, gesturing to a pile of shredded linens behind my head. I groaned, and realized that I was naked. I blushed, and glared at Peter.

"Lemme guess. You had something to do with this," I said, rising to my feet, while simultaneously wrapping my fur blanket around myself. He blushed.

"When we came in through the trees, I was holding you at such an awkward angle, that the tree branches ripped them apart. I tried not to look, but-" I blushed furiously, and slapped him across the face.

"You PERV! GOSH! What a GUY! What's up with all guys wanting to see naked chicks twenty-four/seven! ARGH! GET OUT!" I said, shoving him out of the room. He didn't object, thankfully, and I turned back to Little Creek.

"Win-gah-poh,  How, or hello. I'm not sure what language you're using. I was just able to understand you," I said with a bow, and a hand-movement I learned from Pocahontas.

"! _Hello to you, too! Come!),"_ she said, pulling me towards the pallet I'd spent the night on. I got a good look at her. She was small, and withered, but strong, with long grey and black hair braided down her back. She had big, wise eyes that were a peculiar moss-green color, and a small smile on her wrinkled, friendly face. She wore a dress similar to the one she wanted me to wear, only with green and yellow and red beads. "Here; get dressed," she said, as she pulled my blanket-covering off and grabbed what I figured was a hair-brush from a shelf. I quickly tried to cover my naked body, in embarrassment, and she laughed. Just then, in the middle of my embarrassment, three more ladies came in, one which had with her a baby and a small child. The first was a tall, beautiful woman about in her twenties. She had long, glossy black hair, and doe-brown eyes, along with a long, slender body with lean muscles and hips adorning every part of her. I was rather jealous. She picked up the dress and brought it over my head, smoothing out the wrinkles, and smiling into my face as she kissed each cheek.

" (_I am Tiger Lily_)", she said, as the second woman picked me up, and Tiger Lily pulled the pants up my legs, and placed the moccasins on my feet, as I looked wide-eyed in embarrassment. So THIS was the famous Tiger Lily. I had always envisioned her much smaller while reading the book. The second woman, the one that had lifted me, had taken the brush from Little Creek, and was brushing my hair. She was tall, but not as tall as Tiger Lily, but she was just as pretty. I had a feeling that she was maybe her mother. She looked very similar to Tiger Lily, only she had a tired look to her face, as if she's gone through some hard times. She embraced me warmly, and kissed my cheeks, just as Tiger Lily had.

"(_Welcome I am Ocean Heart)" _she said with a soft, yet strong voice that automatically calmed me.

When she was finished brushing out my hair, she and Tiger Lily took some beads from Little Creek and began to bead my hair. All except the mother. She placed her baby in a cradle-like pallet in the corner, and took some bowls and small drawstring bags made of animal-hides out of her bag. The child ran over and plopped her self into my lap, and gave me a hug and wet kisses on my cheeks. She giggled, as I joined her, and hugged her back. Her mother smiled at my not being worried of her invasion of my space. The little girl was such a cutie. She had little black pigtails down to her waist, and a little top and skirt made of dark deer hides. She had pink and purple beading on her clothing, but she wore no moccasins. She had big moss greens eyes, like that of her mother and of Little Creek. From that, I deduced that she must be Little Creek's granddaughter.

"Is this little cute your granddaughter?" I asked with a smile as she settled into my lap and played with a corn-husk doll. Little Creek stopped her beading and laughed.

"She is my great-granddaughter, Wandering Breeze," she said with a smile and a twinkle in her eye. "And that," she said, pointing to the mother of the girl and the baby, "is my granddaughter, Cricket Spinner." I must have had a funny look on my face, for they all stopped what they were doing and laughed.

"I am called Cricket because, like my daughter, I wander about and am difficult to find, like a cricket, but I can always be heard. I am called Spinner, because I am always spinning tales," she said with a smile. I couldn't see her, because the other ladies were working on my hair, but I liked her voice. It was very similar to my own: high-pitched, yet low-pitched at the same time, with lots of emphasis on favored descriptions and words, and a slight melody to every syllable. "This is my youngest daughter, Night-Shade Sister. She is called this because she is often most lively in the dark shadows of night." She was about 4-5 weeks I guessed, with dark, mysterious slate-grey eyes, and thick, coal-black hair that hung around her eyes. She cooed, and I grinned, and tickled her chubby neck. The ladies got back to their work, and Cricket Spinner came over to me, balancing 3 bowls of powder. Little creek handed her a skin, and she poured an amount of what I figured was, by the smell of it, bear grease into each bowl. Using her fingers, she slowly mixed each bowl together, and said a chant for each bowl. As she mixed, the mixtures became paints of black, red, and white. It was then that I knew what they were. War paints.

"What are the war-paints for, Cricket Spinner?" I asked, starting to shake a little.

"You are to fight Peter Pan. You need the strength, wisdom, and spirits of the Gods around you to protect you. You must be cunning, quick, and agile." She swiped shapes in precise mannerisms, each swipe with a chant. At the last chant, my hair was done, and the ladies raised me to my feet. They looked at me with pride. They herded me to a wall that held weapons. I chose a bow, a quiver of arrows, and a long, silver sword, with a ruby-encrusted hilt. I felt its great weight and power as I parried against an invisible enemy. I faced the women, and thanked them. I had accepted my fate, and I must defend my life if my plan did not work.

"She would have made a great wife, if she were not to be defeated so soon," was all I heard before I was pushed out into the bright sunshine, and thrust into a giant net.


	4. Flight of Dreams

Chapter Four-A Time to Change

The bright sun blinded me as I fell onto the net. Suddenly, I was covered with an onslaught of a golden mist-like substance. The ends of the net were brought up into the air by specks of bright light. I rose into the air and found myself looking down at the women who prepared me for my battle. They waved and smiled grimly. In a matter of seconds, I was far above the trees, soaring high by the sun like Icarus. The day was warm, with a cooling breeze. The birds were singing, the flowers were bright and cheery, and the squirrels chattered on the ground. I shifted around in the bet and squinted at the glowing flecks. Upon close inspection, I found they looked like little men and women with wings, and they were glowing like they'd put on sparkling fluorescent paint. I realized that these beings within my dream must be fairies. I was having fun so far, being safe within my dream, seeing these mystical creatures that seemed so realistic right then.

"Hello!" I said. I heard tolling of large bells and ringing of tiny bells, like the ones you'd find on a reindeer's sleigh. I wondered where it was coming from. I whipped my head around, searching for the bells. All I saw was trees below and skies above. As my head moved about, I heard more bells, only this time, it was high-pitched tinkling. I turned to a pink-glowing fairy. She had long, wavy brown hair that reached her feet and covered her nude body. Her large, emerald-shaped purple eyes looked upon me in interest, wonder, and anger as I politely asked her, "Where are those beautiful bells' ringing coming from?" She opened her mouth to giggle at me, and I heard a high-pitched chiming come from her mouth. It suddenly clicked that it was the fairy's speech that was making the noise. I remembered how Wendy never understood what Tink was saying because of her speech, but Peter somehow always did. That thought brought me back to my current predicament. I was on my way to see Peter, and bring Tink back to life. If I didn't, I'd have to wake back up, and end up back in my bed in my horrible town with my horrible life. I sighed and turned back to the fairy, which was still gripping the net tightly and hauling me through the sky with the rest of the fairies.

"You have a very beautiful voice," I said, smiling. She "said" something again, and I grinned sheepishly. "I'm sorry to say that I don't understand what you're saying, but I do want to say thank you for taking me to wherever I'm headed to," I said. She looked rather puzzled, most likely at my politeness. The fairies probably thought of my as a murderous brute after what happened to Tink.

As I sat there uncomfortably thinking, I recalled how Peter and Wendy saved Tink by clapping and saying that they believed. I just hoped it worked. I didn't believe, and I knew I was just dreaming, but I really wanted to save her. I hated to be the cause of any deaths. It was one of the reasons I became a vegetarian. I saw the fairies, and I heard them, yet I still didn't believe, because I knew that no matter what, I'd end up back in my bed at home, having to wake up and get ready for another day of torture.

We soon arrived at out destination because I suddenly found myself hurtling toward the ground with a speed that was a bit faster than I was comfortable with. I was going faster, and I screamed for the fairies to stop, but they were gone. As I was nearing the ground, I screamed one last pitiful plea for help, and blacked out.


End file.
